


Overlooked

by BeatrixGtheMaskedDogNoobsomeExagerjunk



Series: Shots and Waiting: American Independency and Its Bloody Evolution [1]
Category: 1776 (1972), Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1776/Hamilton Fusion, Although dialogue and humor come from 1776, Anachronistic, And by visual stylings I mean anachronisms, Character(s) of Color, Constant references to the events of 1776 and Act 1 of Hamilton, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, Historical Inaccuracy, Martha's death and his adventures in France is why Thomas became an asshat, Mostly follows the visual stylings of Hamilton, Period Typical Attitudes, Period Typical Dialogue combined with Contemporary Dialogue, Universe timeline is aligned with timeline of the musicals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-02 13:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11509956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeatrixGtheMaskedDogNoobsomeExagerjunk/pseuds/BeatrixGtheMaskedDogNoobsomeExagerjunk
Summary: A bunch of newly established politicians revel in what could be of their legacies.Hamilton believes in doing whatever it takes just to score a seat on the throne of history.Adams thinks Hamilton is as hopeless as he is, particularly when being in the same time and place as Jefferson and Washington.Set in a 1776 and Hamilton AU where the events and styles of both musicals co-exist in one universe.





	1. Opening Doors

"I didn't think I'd see you clad yourself as obnoxiously as Franklin,"

Thomas merely chuckled.

He faced John. "What? I heard the fashion's gon' popular."

John raised a hand into his not-so lengthy, graying raven hair. "Velvet? Really? Good God, it doesn't even fit you!"

Thomas's on-point eyebrows crooked up a little. "I appreciate your honesty."

John placed his hand back on his walking cane. "You know me, Mr. Jefferson."

The two began their stroll in the hall.

"So Washington appointed you," John attempted to start conversation. "It's good that his Exellency sees your brilliance."

"Senate-approved, Johnny!" Jefferson laughed. "I must say, the opportunities I've been handed are quite lovely."

"I see." John slowed his pace, tucking a loose, curly lock of his hair, as well as flatting out his olive green coat.

Rustic orange during the Continental Congress. Faded red as Ambassador to Britain.

Olive green. Vice President.

The job seemed kinda shitty, but John felt that it wouldn't remain that way forever.

"Is something the matter?" Thomas snapped John back into reality. "Um, d-did I say somethin' or-"

"It's nothing to worry about." Adams's hazel-gray eyes met with Jefferson's chestnut browns.

"Well," John faced away, "you are becoming chatty; and I thought I was a talker-"

"Why, is that a probl'm with you, Mr. Adams?"

"Oh, no no," Adams stops. "You're just..."

"What?"

Adams turned to Jefferson again, looking up at him with a studying eye.

"Something's different about you, man."

Jefferson's hair was bushier than ever (albeit, relatively still well-groomed enough), now laced with silvery corkscrews of hair.

He's of age; the prick's 46.

He's never acted smugly for this long before. All that smugness--it's all over his face.

And that stupid velvet coat. In purple and magenta.

He looked better in simpler clothes. Brown was really his thing. Reflects Tom's quiet attitude.

"Are you just gonna keep starin' at me like at or--"

" **Incredible**! The fuck happened to you?!" Adams took a step back.

"Ah," He kept Thomas from speaking. "No no..."

He burried his face into his hands, "Why didn't I see this before?"

Thomas was perplexed. "Mr. Adams, if you are upset, y-you could just cut to the God damn point."

"Forget it, Thomas," John took his cane and brisked his way across.

Jefferson's heels echoed behind him. "Hey, where the hell do ya think yer goin'?!"

Adams stopped at this one door. He faced Jefferson. "Hm?"

"There isn't even a meetin', John,"

John gave Thomas a look of intimidation (which Thomas doesn't feel, but to John, he thought _eh, fuck it_ ), and condescendingly handed him a piece of paper.

Jefferson took it in his large, white gloved-hands, and read.

 

 

> To whom it may concern,
> 
> It is with dismay that I am to inform you that I cannot attend to my duties by the time you have received this correspondence. My reason must remain confidential as they are of heavy personal value. Any publication of it will be deemed inappropriate of me. I entrust Mr. Adams to supervise in my absence, as it is his duty. May the Cabinet be duly and immediately informed of this information.
> 
> Your obedient,

" _G. Washington_ ," Adams finished for Jefferson after the imaginary drum roll, taking the letter back.

Just as he was twisting the knob, Jefferson starts with, "Wait, why would Washington have you supervise?"

"I'm the Vice President of the United States," Adams smugly answered, pushing the door open. "It is my duty."

Jefferson groans in exasperation when he beholds the person within the premises of the room.


	2. The Sight of Alexander Hamilton

John glared at Thomas for his action then faced the only person inside the room.

How the man got in there that early was questionable.

His hair was short, brushed off to one side, suave in cut. It was highlighted with gold and laced with little silver, the entire mess a burnt brown color. His beard-goatee matched.

His skin was a shade or two lighter than Adams's own. (Give the stranger time under the sun and they'd look identical.) His eyes were a passionate brown, eye bags quite concerning.

They shared similar height (John swore to himself he was an inch or two taller). Adams felt that he was heavier; he's chubby compared to the man who came so early in the room.

He was dressed in gold, the color of money. Relatively rugged too.

He was young compared to him and Jefferson.

"Mr. Jefferson, you have to be foolish to bring a friend with equally horrible stances to prove your stupid point!" Oh, John did not like this man already.

Thomas's repeated groan told John that dear ol' Tom felt the same way.

Like, greet the person _before_ insulting them.

The stranger faced the both of them, slightly groggy from what is clearly lack of sleep, messily arranging papers.

John proceeded to walk in, Thomas trailing deliberately.

"Thomas, who is this?" John asked loudly with his sharp voice, turning on the lights.

"Who are you?" The man in gold yelled out with slight slurring, a little angry. His voice was silked out and slightly nasal.

"A bit rude of you to eavesdrop, young sir." Adams retorted.

"With a voice as annoying as yours, it's impossible!" The man spat back.

"Says you," Jefferson cut in the both of them, slamming the door behind him.

Just as John was about to speak again, Thomas reestablished his authority and turned to him by striking the ground with his walking stick. "This is the man I've come to rant to ya about."

The said man approached the two. "Jefferson, who is this?"

Thomas ignored this and kept his attention on Adams. "This is our Secretary of the Treasury, Alexander Hamilton."

John looked at Hamilton, catching a condescending gleam in his eye as Alexander offered his hand towards him. "And to whom do I own the honor?"

They shook.  "John Adams."

Suddenly, John felt his hand crumple in Alexander's. "Mr. Vice President?"

John felt a sense of horribly repressed anger from Hamilton.

Well, what do you expect to feel about someone you find obnoxious and disliked?

Jefferson bent down and whispered into Hamilton's ear. The Treasury Secretary merely scoffs The Secretary of State away with venom.

Adams quickly lets go first.  "Well, since today's meeting merely requires only the three of us, why don't we get started?"

"I'm sorry," Hamilton said out of the blue, his lilting voice bringing life to his words, "but I _believe_ only _Washington_ has the _authority_ to decide on Cabinet _meetings_ \--"

"Not when he is _absent_ and _unable_ to establish said _authority_ ," Adams replied back, words emphasized wonderfully.

Passing Hamilton the letter he had shown Jefferson earlier, "I've already tasked Senator Schuyler to run things for me and temporarily supervise the Senate while I'm in absence for Washington."

Hamilton skimmed through the letter, glared at Adams with a doubtful eye and returned the paper, looking utterly bitter.

The Secretaries then look at each other with towering amounts of disdain.

Adams, content enough, proceeded to trot over to Washington's table and took the seat, resting his cane down and turning on the air conditioner.

In realization that none of the Secretaries followed into their perspective desks, John slammed his fist down his table. "I said **let's get started**!"

The sound of their relatively rushed footsteps echoed loudly in the room.

The toxicity evident between the two was sickening.

Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton were gonna bring John Adams mad.

John could tell. He always did.

 _Just_ _you_ _wait_ _,_ John thought to himself.

 _Keep_   _up_   _the_ _commitment_ _and_ _you'll_ _be_ _fine_ _._


End file.
